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I don't even know, people. They let anyone write on the internet nowadays.

Sep 8, 2011

The Monster Under My Bed - or why brothers are evil

When I was a kid, the books series Goosebumps by R.L. Stine scared the ever loving crap out of me. When I read them, my overly vivid imagination would eventually leave me in my closet with the lights on, because if you're in the closet, the monster can't fit in there. I was 12 or so (shut up, I had a really really good imagination).

Goosebumps the TV show, on the other hand, usually didn't phase me. Sure, the music was creepy, but anything put on by Nickelodeon at the time wasn't that frightening in terms of special effects, and the show always showed too much of the monster (an interesting side note is that I felt completely opposite about the book and television series Are You Afraid of the Dark? The books were mediocre but the show scared me to kingdom come).

There was a notable exception, however. There was a made-for-TV movie that was along the same lines called Don't Look Under the Bed that has left an indelible mark on my subconscious. In one scene a girl is sitting on the edge of her bed and something grabs her ankles and drags her away under the bed into some kind of horror world. That image still kind of freaks me out. Probably because it's scary as hell. The fact that I scare easily isn't a problem, though. The fact that I had brothers who knew I scared easily WAS.

Occasionally their antics would backfire - like the time they tried to play upon the fact that I had just watched The 6th Sense by opening all of the kitchen cabinets and putting the chairs on the table (I had gone straight to bed, or rather, my closet with the lights on and a non-scary book, so they just got yelled at the next day by our parents instead).

Occasionally, however, they'd scare me and scar my psyche for life.

My twin brother, 2min2late, managed to get me really really well this one time through a cunning use of electronics combined with sheer evil. To understand the depths of this masterpiece, you've got to understand the layout of the house. We had a great room with the master bedroom that my parents shared off underneath the stairs leading up to the second floor. All of us kids were on the balcony level. At the top of the stairs, 2min2late's bedroom was immediately to your left, while the bathroom we shared was directly in front. If you turned right, my Big Bro's bedroom with its attached bathroom was to your left in what was originally supposed to be attic space, and my bedroom was directly ahead. A crappily drawn MS paint version is below (and yes, I'm aware Hyperbole and a Half does MS Paint drawings. She's much more talented than I.).
Perspective is optional.

2M2L had been talking to me prior to my entrance into the bathroom, so I knew he was in his bed. He had also purchased a crappy little remote control for his bedside lamp, that apparently had fantastic range. After I entered the bathroom, he quickly stuffed pillows under his covers to look like he was still in it at first glance, and got into position in my room. When I exited the bathroom (above in blue), I said "Good night, bro" into his room, and he turned off his bedside lamp from inside my bedroom. 

At this time, I had a queen-sized bed. One that could fit a small and decidedly evil, snickering brother underneath. This is important.

Thinking my brother had gone to bed without saying goodnight, I journeyed into my room completely unaware of the horror that awaited me. I got to my bed and sat down - then promptly lost my shit when 2M2L grabbed my ankles and tugged. 

I know I kicked him in the face. He's really lucky I didn't manage to make it all the way to my weapons stash of those flippy thingys that were all the rage that I had decided would make pretty good nun chucks. 
College fad, or deadly weapon? You decide.

I screamed to high heaven, of course. What's funny is I don't usually scream unless I know for a fact someone will hear me - roller coasters, I'm terrified and absolutely silent. Roach on my own, completely quiet as I break out the flamethrowers. Roach with friends or knowing someone's close by, and let the Black Canary commence.

2min2late ended up in less trouble than I would like - while my parents were woken out of a sound sleep, my dad thought it was too hilarious and deviously planned to really punish.

I ended up making a request for a twin-sized bed that is too close to the ground to fit under for the next 5 years' worth of Christmases. I still sleep in it.

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